


All We Know Is Falling

by RegalPixieDust



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2019-06-09 16:22:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15271458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RegalPixieDust/pseuds/RegalPixieDust
Summary: After a less than stellar blind date, the only thing Robin and Regina have in common is their love for their godson, Henry. When disaster strikes, fate throws them into an adventure neither of them could have ever expected.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is pretty closely based on the movie Life as We Know It with some OQ magic thrown in. Hope you enjoy! TW: major character death (not Robin or Regina). But I own nothing except my exhaustion!

 

_Two Weeks Ago..._

_Regina loves to plan a party. Usually she's hired to plan larger affairs: weddings, graduations, milestone birthdays or anniversaries, but when her best friend asked if she would plan her Godson's first birthday party, she jumped at it._

_Though she fears she might have gone a bit over the top._

Emma's eyes bugged open wide when she saw the number of balloons tied to edges of chairs, the dragon  _napkins, paper plates, cups… dragon everything._

" _Whoa…" Emma's mouth drops open as she does a quick spin around. "You've turned my loft into a child's dream. And a parent's nightmare."_

_Regina laughs heartily. "I will take that as a compliment."_

" _Please do," Emma smiles, looping an arm over Regina's shoulder and hugging her from the side. "You've outdone yourself once again."_

_Regina waves off the praise, telling her to shush and make her way into the small kitchen area and open up the fridge. On top of planning the decorations, Regina took it upon herself to bake enough for a small army; if she had to decorate another cupcake, she might have gone nuts._

" _And cake?!" Emma asks. "Regina, you've done far too much."_

" _It's for Henry," she states. She would give her soul for that boy, so a few cakes and balloons are hardly excessive. "How's he feeling today?"_

_Emma had mentioned the other day that she was worried about a stomach bug. "Doc gave him the all clear," she says, jumping up to perch on the kitchen counter as Regina continues to set up plates of snacks. "Apparently kids his age can just be… pukey."_

_Regina stifles a bit of a laugh, muttering a breathy "fun" for Emma to just barely hear._

" _It could be worse," Emma shrugs. "But speaking of the doctor," she says mischievously, enough for Regina to roll her eyes and stop what she's doing. "He's hot. Like, man of your dreams kind of hot, and I started speaking to the nurse to see if-"_

" _No," Regina stops her, laughing at her relentless efforts._

" _What?" Emma defends. "It was just a harmless conversation."_

" _Emma, no," she asserts, still smiling nonetheless. "You promised you'd stop trying to play matchmaker." She's actually impressed that Emma's still trying given how most of these dates have ended._

" _How do you even know you won't like him?" Emma whines._

" _Because you have the worst setup track record of anyone," Regina reminds her. "Ever."_

" _Like who?"_

_Regina shakes her head in disbelief. There's no way Emma can be so nonchalant about the numerous failed dating attempts to remember none of them, so she names the first off the top of her head, "Jefferson. You know, the guy who decided to hotbox my car? Victor. Leroy."_

" _Okay, okay," Emma concedes. "You've made your point."_

" _Oh, and don't even get me started on the Robin Locksley disaster from five years ago," Regina laughs, going back to rearranging the cupcakes on small plates._

" _You are never going to let me live that down," Emma groans, taking the baked treats from Regina while she pops her lips in a loud_ nope _._

_Emma put the cakes down on the table in the centre of the loft, but is still in defense mode. "You know, that was Neal. I didn't even really know Robin then."_

" _You're guilty by association," Regina says with her face inside the fridge, reaching to the lowest shelf to bring out the birthday cake she absolutely spent way to much time on. "But you're my best friend, so I forgive you." Emma is intrigued by the huge cake box and is peering over the breakfast counter for the big reveal. "You just keep having gorgeous babies so I can spoil them with cakes every year."_

_Regina opens the box, and Emma is rendered almost speechless. She'd worked so hard on it, making sure the colours for the icing were just right, making sure that dinosaur shape was perfect._

" _Best. Godmother. Ever," Emma praises, yet again._

_The front door swings open with a very determined Robin marching inside and heading straight for the bathroom under the stairs, followed by a very amused looking Neal with Henry in his arms, smiling away like the gorgeous boy he is._

" _Robin had a bit of an accident," Neal explains, stifling laughter as he wanders in passed the decorations._

_From the bathroom, Robin calls out from over running water, "He threw up on me!"_

_Regina snorts, covering her mouth to mask it, but it's too late. Robin heard her and now she's never going to hear the end of it. He emerges from the bathroom, his grey shirt soaking on a patch at the front where she imagines the assault took place. "You think that's funny?"_

_Regina rolls her eyes and reaches to take Henry from Neal, cuddling him close. "I just think Henry has impeccable aim," she grins, turning her attention to the infant with a higher pitched voice, "Don't you?"_

" _Lovely to see you, as always, Regina," Robin mutters on his way passed. "I especially love this colour of bitter on you today."_

_Over the last five years she's become an expert at deflecting his teasing and even become more of an expert of dishing it right back, but with the bundle of joy in her arms, she opts for a stick out of her tongue and an eye roll._

" _Enough, you two," Emma chuckles. "Robin, go upstairs and change into something of Neal's before everyone gets here."_

" _Why, what time is it?"_

" _It's eleven," Regina answers. "Though it's only ten in Locksley time…" She turns her head to face Robin, pretending to be shocked, "You know, I'm surprised your eyes are even open right now."_

" _Oh, good one..." he nods, amused, "...but at least I know what it's like to have some sort of a night life."_

_As much as they dislike each other, at least their teasing is mostly in jest. It's a game for them at this point, one where there are very few limits, but that one had her pursing her lips and narrowing her eyes as she considered her next move._

" _Alright," Neal chimes in, and just in time before Regina unleashed lord knows what sort of response. "It's the baby's birthday, let's stay in our neutral corners, yeah?"_

" _Yes," Robin nods firmly, smiling tightly at Regina, a smile she mirrors._

" _Good." Emma claps her hands together once and cuddles up close to Neal. "Because we had something we wanted to say." Regina sits at the breakfast bar with Henry still perched on her hip and Robin just behind her as they wait for their friends to speak. "We really wanted to thank both of you for everything you've done this year."_

" _We owe our sanity to you both," Neal concurs. "And I couldn't imagine celebrating the little guy's first birthday without his two favourite people here."_

" _There's nowhere else we would rather be," Robin says, and annoyingly enough, Regina has to agree with him. Regina smiles at Henry and peppers a kiss on his chubby cheek, leaving behind the faintest trace of her lipstick, and it takes Robin no time at all to comment, "I don't think that's his colour."_

_Regina sighs and turns back to look at him scornfully. Emma takes Henry from her and mutters brightly about how it's like having three children in the house sometimes, and Robin leans in towards Regina, her face right against the messy part of his shirt._

" _Ugh, you smell like spit up," her face twists in disgust._

" _Oh, really?" Robin laughs, wrapping her arms tightly as she wriggles to get away._

_She'll admit that he's quite the playful guy, even to the point where it's entertaining, and luckily for him, this is one of those moments._

* * *

 

That was the last time the four of them were ever all together. They spent time at the party, shared video calls and texts, but not since then was it ever just the four of them and Henry.

Regina blames it partly on her work. She'd booked a huge wedding earlier in the year that ended up eating up most of her time as it drew closer. It was finally last week, but she'd taken the week to relax and hopefully regain some normalcy back to her schedule, but that isn't going to happen any time soon.

"Ma'am," Officer Hart brings her attention back. "Have you heard what I've been saying?"

There are unshed tears in her eyes, a bitter lump in her throat that she can't decide is worth swallowing quite yet. "There was an accident," she says monotonously.

"The Highway Patrol found your name and number on an insurance contact card in her wallet," he says softly, almost a whisper, as if the quieter he spoke the less it would slice at her soul. "We need the names and numbers of the nearest next of kin, is that something you could provide?"

"Yes," she nods. "Uh, Emma has… uh,  _had_. She had no family, other than us... uh… me, Robin and Neal. But Neal's father…" She's trying to wrap her head around everything, but she's just running around in circles. "You said there was a drunk driver?"

"Miss Mills, are you sure you wouldn't like to sit down?" he asks, showing her over to the cold, grey, plastic chairs on the precinct wall.

"They have a baby boy," her voice shudders. "Henry. Was he in the car?" The glistening drops in her eyes finally drop as her need for Henry to be safe eats away at her insides.

The officer's short and sincere  _no_  allows for her lungs to breath again. "He was in the care of a neighbour at the time of the accident. Officers placed him with Child Protective Services, he's perfectly fine. They handle cases like this all the time."

"Cases like this?" she asks.

He doesn't want to say it. His eyes drop to the floor so he doesn't have to fully see her reaction. "Orphaned children."

Her exhale is shuddered and full of pain as she tries to expel that bitter taste from her mouth. She reaches to cover over her mouth, any attempt to stifle the wave of loud sobs and determined tears on their battle with gravity.

She's surprised by strong arms around her, pulling her in tightly and holding her head against his chest.

Robin.

She knows it's him. He's still wearing that cologne that smells like someone put an entire pine tree in a bottle; she'd called him out for it on their horrifically bad blind date years ago, but to this day, he still wears it.

"They're gone," she sobs against him, gripping against his jacket with white-knuckled fists.

He shushes her gently, squeezing her in even more and pressing his lips into her hair, not quite a kiss but either way it's comforting. He steps up big time, more than she ever knew he was capable of. Suddenly their nitpicking and pestering is obsolete and their friendship has barrelled to the surface.

She's practically comatose when Robin sits her down by the front desk, and she listens as he robotically gives the officer Neal's family's information. He links his arm through her's and walks them to his car; she brought her own, but a night in the parking lot isn't the worst thing that could happen right now.

"Do you have your spare key?"

Regina is staring off out the passenger window at the bright street lights and dark sky. She musters a whispered  _yes,_  and Robin makes a sudden turn to the right, and they pull up in front of Emma and Neal's loft shortly after.

They both stare at the wooden door for longer than they usually do before Robin creaks it open slowly. Walking inside is surreal. It still smells homely, the lingering smell of whatever they had made for dinner earlier that night. The laundry that was still to be folded is on the table, pushed aside for Emma to nag Neal about tomorrow.

A tomorrow they'll never have.

* * *

 Robin isn't even sure he's taken a proper breath since leaving the police station. And now standing in the loft, he's certain it won't be long until he's blue in the face. Instinctively, he turns the lights on around the first floor and heads to the fridge for one of the cold beers he knows Neal stashes in the back.

Regina's never been much of a beer drinker, but he doesn't see the harm in popping the top off one for her, too. She seems to be on a mission when he turns back around, leaning against the kitchen counter and scrolling madly through her phone.

"We need to see Henry," she tells him when he places the beer next to her, though before she can even acknowledge it, she has already clicked on a number and is calling whoever she'd been hunting for.

She wanders off near the front door, talking to the poor sod she's managed to reach at this hour and is trying to figure everything out.

She always has to have a plan, that one. Her incessant need to be on top of everything is a constant target for his teasing. Tonight, though, he's thankful she's here to do it.

The washing basket filled to the brim with baby clothes has stolen his attention entirely, it's calling to him. At first he thinks that Neal would appreciate it if they were folded and put away before they get home… but… they're not coming home.

Nausea overcomes him and his knees all but buckle entirely until he's sat in the recliner in the corner of the room, staring at the sodding washing heaped up. The beer isn't appealing anymore, so he sets it aside and abandons his face in his hands, rubbing over his coarse skin stressfully.

Regina's voice is starting to raise as she speaks over the phone. "What do you mean we can't see him?" she asks frantically. "I don't care about your protocol. This is…" She looks over to Robin, heartbreak all over her face, and she shrugs her shoulders in utter defeat. "Yes. You can reach me at this number."

She scoffs madly, tossing her phone with a clatter against the table. "They won't do anything until the morning." Her lips twitch into a frown, and she sadly says, "He's probably so confused."

Robin stands, feeling confident when he says that he's sure Henry is fine. It's late, he's probably been asleep for hours and come the morning they can sort it all out. "Why don't we sleep here tonight?" Regina nods. "You take the guest bed and I'll…" he looks at the ladder leading up to where Neal and Emma should be sleeping, but he shakes his head against the very idea of doing that, "... I'll take the couch. Okay?"

"Alright," she exhales, shedding her town coat and abandoning it next to the basket.

He steps over the odd toys left on the ground, hoping to avoid any unnecessary squeaking on his way to the couch, and when he plants his arse down on the slightly uncomfortable cushioning, Regina has called out for him, with a simple  _thank you_  falling from her lips.

* * *

 

Regina didn't sleep a wink all night. Literally all night. Since she decided to haul her ass out of bed, she's stared over at Robin's sleeping form on numerous occasions, almost green with envy. But she figures it's better that at least one of them sleep.

It's not until after she hangs up with Neal's lawyer that he finally stirs, stretching loudly and groaning as he sits up from the couch.

"Any news?" he asks, his voice laced with the sleep she craves.

"Archie called," she tells him, finishing up with putting clean dishes away. "He wants to speak to us."

"Their lawyer?" he asks, and she nods almost in tandem with the knock at the door.

Regina let's Archie in after exchanging a sad smile with him; they've all met before at an event years ago, but she and Archie clicked really well and have remained in touch since. Robin has cleared the table of the laundry and her coat, making sure there was space for them all to sit and discuss everything.

"I'm sure you both have a lot of questions," Archie notes, sitting down from them both as she and Robin sit side by side.

"Well, I think we are both mostly concerned about Henry," Robin notes, and Regina quickly agrees with him.

"Yes, that's who we're both thinking of." Archie nods understandingly before Regina asks, "What will happen to him now?"

He leans forward to perch his elbows on the table and explains, "I've arranged for Henry to be transferred from the foster family he was with last night. We feel it's in his best interest to be in a familiar environment, so he needs to be picked up and brought here."

"Okay," Robin exhales, and catches Regina's eye with a glint of confusion. "And, uh… who does that?"

Regina immediately looks back to Archie for the answer, but there's something about his wide eyed stare that makes her think she and Robin are missing some vital piece of information here.

Archie confirms that when he sinks back in his chair a bit. "I'm sorry, did Emma and Neal talk to you about their guardianship arrangements?" She and Robin look at each other, shaking their heads slowly. "Well, in preparing their will, we talked at length about who would take care of Henry in the unlikely event that both of his parents were to pass... " Regina's chest tightens when she realises exactly what's coming next. "And they named you. Both of you."

"I'm sorry?" she and Robin say simultaneously, and then they each go on their own tangent of rambling, asking for a more detailed explanation. There were so many questions being thrown around that she could hardly hear herself think, let alone anything else.

Archie holds his hands up, "I know this isn't exactly how you planned to start a family."

"There's been a huge misunderstanding," Regina tells him, and Robin agrees with a sound  _yeah_  from beside her. "We're not married."

"No," Robin agrees, and rambles off the explanation nervously, "They set us up on a blind date once, and we never even made it to the restaurant."

"We never even made it out of the  _street_ ," Regina laughs nervously, not even caring that he's bringing that date up again, hell, she even agrees with him. "It was a disaster."

"I don't even think I'd call it a date."

"Right, I mean, he was such a dick."

"I know this is overwhelming," Archie tells them sympathetically. "And, believe me, I tried to advise them against it, but there are options. You can say no." Regina clasps her hands together and leans her chin against them. Her life had already been jostled about and now it's been entirely turned on its head, and Robin is next to her, looking like Archie is spouting some nonsense in a foreign language. "This is a big deal," Archie says. "This is a  _child._  It's a huge commitment. But for the time being, I think everyone here just wants to see Henry and get him home, am I right?" Robin is the first to agree wholeheartedly, and Regina follows in suit. "Now, as for finances, their estate covers the mortgage, but that's about it, so I recommend the two of you move in here right now and-"

"They want us to move  _in_  together?" Robin scoffs.

"Just for the moment," Archie explains, but he seems confident when he tells them that, "It's what's best for Henry. At least until we figure out what you want to do in the long term."

Their eyes meet in an unsure gaze, nervous for how fate's new plan for them is going to work out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 for Day 6 of Happy Ending Week! Please let me know what you think! I'm excited to take more time with this and extend it out a bit. Enjoy! And another huge thanks to Britt.

Getting Henry back to the house was relatively simple, though it's not as if she has a similar experience to compare it to. It's safe to say she was barely paying attention once she caught a glimpse of Henry through the office door window - every exchange between Archie and the social worker became background noise.

All she could think about was holding him close.

They took a moment outside with Archie. He started muttering off names of people who could also very easily take Henry in if need be. Neal's father was among those listed and for the first time ever, Robin and Regina both scoffed in tandem, muttering off an  _absolutely not_  and a  _that'll never happen._

Regina was the one to suggest they sit on it for a few days, that maybe after the funeral they can make a final decision, but for the time being, she just wanted to get Henry to his own home. Archie agreed, of course, and they piled into the car for the short commute home.

Henry must've been exhausted because within a minute or two, he was sound asleep. Regina sat in the back of the car with him, refusing to take her eyes from him for even a second, though she does notice Robin's numerous glances back in the rearview mirror - he'd probably have stared for longer if he wasn't solely responsible for getting them home in one piece.

Their car ride to CPS was deadly silent. They were shaken to the core. Something's definitely different between them now. It's strange. There's more tension almost, but there has been a complete cease of all attempts at sass and bickering. Their ride home is pretty much the same.

They enter the apartment silently, Henry gathered in Robin's arms as he places him carefully in his crib that they'd moved downstairs.

Robin mutters quietly that he needs a few minutes and asks if she'll be alright on her own for a while, and she nods, wanting to ask him where he's off to, but she knows better than to think he'd actually tell her.

He leaves her alone in the main room with her arms crossed, a sleeping infant, and a lot of questions. She doesn't know the first thing about parenting. She's barely gotten used to being the cool aunt that gets to hug and kiss him but doesn't have to worry much too often.

Doing the only thing she knows, she looks at Emma's cluttered bookcase for anything that could help. She remembers she had bought some sort of help book for Emma's baby shower, and she prays it's still here.

It is. Thank God.

She sits on the couch, tucks her legs underneath herself and focuses on the first few chapters, hoping that it might prepare them for everything that's about to be thrown their way. Though, it isn't much help. It's not as if she stumbled across a book called  _My Best Friend Died, Gave Me Her Son and Expects Me To Live With Robin Locksley._

That's the book she needs because she hasn't a fucking clue what she's doing.

The front door opens quietly, and Robin comes back inside. He looks awful - tired and like a big ball of worry, not that she could blame him for that. She considers lying for a second and telling him that everything's fine, that's she's fine, that he's fine, that everything's  _going_  to be fine. But before her fib becomes a reality, he offers up a question: "Did Emma ever talk to you about this?"

Robin sits on the edge of the couch - something Emma would constantly scold him and Neal for - and immediately straightens up again, opting for the corner of the coffee table (something Emma was less bothered by).

"She never said a thing," Regina sighs, slapping her useless book closed. "I'm assuming Neal never…"

"Nope," he leans forward, putting his elbows on his knees. "How do you forget to mention something like this?"

"We must have been part of a plan," Regina says. She's discovered that trying to find any reason in all of this is just an easy way to get a headache.

"Care to walk me through this plan?" He's stressed, pinging his finger against the palm of his other hand and she hasn't seen him do that since Emma was in labour. "Are we supposed to live here together? We can share custody and both get equally sleep deprived." He stands again, pacing madly around the sitting room. "We barely get along on a  _good_  day, and they signed us up together to play house? Assuming that we can even pay for this place."

She rolls her eyes, not strong enough to even try to pretend to be shocked that he barely listened this morning. "Archie said the mortgage is covered."

"Alright," Robin laughs bitterly, confirming his stress. It's almost amusing because Robin reacts just like Neal when something throws him off balance - he'll ask a mountain of questions. "And what about the upkeep? The utilities? Supplies for living with a child? Neal was being handed a check by his father every other month. I am a part-time bartender, I don't make this kind of money. And what do you do? You plan parties for a living?"

"I run a successful business, Robin," she replies defensively. "I do pretty well for myself."

"Yeah?" He sits back on the coffee table, directly in front of her this time. "Well, running a business is nothing like taking care of a baby."

"I didn't say it was."

Henry starts to whimper from the guest area of the loft and both of their heads snap up before they're pulling themselves together and scurrying through to make sure he is okay.

"Hello, sweetheart," Regina smiles brightly, reaching down to pick Henry up from the crib, but he immediately reaches for Robin. "You want Uncle Robin, huh?"

She passes him with ease, happy to see that despite Robin's frustration at everything, he still becomes putty around that little boy.

"Look at you, sleepyhead," Robin coos, but Henry's whimpering becomes more apparent. "Maybe he's hungry?" Robin asks.

_Not a bad thought_ , she thinks, and nods her head in agreement before heading to the kitchen. She's never had to prepare anything for a baby before; Emma would usually just hand her a bowl and she would be the one to spoon feed him, but she hasn't a clue what to prep. Her instinct says to reach for the food processor and vegetables. She could hardly go wrong with that.

But according to Henry, she's taking far too long. He's crying up a storm when Regina promises him, "It's coming, I promise."

"He's not a food critic," Robin tells her as he starts bouncing Henry up and down on his hip as a distraction. "He's one."

"I can't just feed him anything."

Robin slips Henry into his high chair and faces him towards the kitchenette. "Can we try and feed him before he's two?" She growls and scowls in his direction. She's doing her best and it would be appreciated if he'd quit freaking out for one second to see it. "Look at us, we haven't a single idea what we're doing."

"We'll figure it out."

"Will we? What about our lives? How exactly is this going to play out in the plans you had set up? What about the date you have coming up? Lord knows you've hardly had much luck in that department and you want to go ahead and add a lifelong commitment to the mix."

She's frantically looking around the kitchen for an appropriate bowl and spoon, trying her hardest to ignore Robin, but he's just pushing all of her buttons. "You don't know anything about me  _or_ my life." There's one drawer over the sink that she's pulling over and over to try and open it.

"I know that you can't open a childproof drawer," he sasses, coming up beside her to help her undo the contraption.

She straightens up immediately, stepping back from him. "You're being an asshole," she hisses through clenched teeth. She groans as she snatches the plastic baby spoon from Robin's hand. "Why are you going out of your way to convince me not to help him?"

"I'm not," he disagrees. "I'm trying to make sure we really think about this."

"I'm trying to do what's best for him," she expresses, filling Henry's bowl with the very orange and healthy concoction she created.

"And what if we're not it?"

She's had enough. She slams Henry's bowl back to the counter and flips to face him, overcome with frustration and sheer anxiety that is eating away at her sanity.

"They loved Henry more than anything in the world.  _Anything,"_ she's close to crying as she finishes, "and out of everyone in the world, they picked us." Robin is listening to her, backing down with the slump of his shoulders as her words really sink in. "They picked  _us._  Emma grew up in the system. The last thing she wanted is for her son to have to go through that and they made a decision to ensure that Henry would have a good life.  _We_  were that choice."

She reaches up to wipe away at the tired tears that are starting to fall from her eyes. "We have to try, Robin." She shrugs her shoulders, not sure what else she could say to convince him. She knows he's scared because she is terrified. "We have to."

Robin looks over her shoulder at Henry. He's calmed down, all she can hear are some blubbered baby noises, but she doesn't take her eyes from Robin. She watches as he softens looking at the child who needs them.

"I'm scared shitless," he confesses in a whisper.

"Oh, really?" She looks at him with a sympathetic, tight smile. "I thought you were just being a pain in my ass on purpose." His lips twitch up into the slightest form of a smile before dropping back to a neutral look. "I'm scared too. But we have to do this. For Emma and Neal… and Henry."

"Okay," he nods, sighing heavily into his open palms. "Okay, we'll try. But we need to work on a schedule because I can't leave work; I'm so close to getting my promotion."

"Bar  _owner_ , huh?" She raises her eyebrow, trying to get them back into their playful pattern. They need that normalcy right now. And it works, he rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, feigning a huff. She laughs lightly, "We'll make a schedule."

"And you're on nappies. I am putting my foot down." He cracks a smile at her.

"Jerk," she exhales through a smile.

"I hope for Henry's sake you learn to love me,"he kids. "Now go and feed him the fancy supper you made."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 3 coming super soon!


	3. Chapter 3

Regina usually never struggles to decide on an outfit. She always has it together, down to the shoes and the accessories. Being incapable to deem something too dressy or too casual for an occasion was Emma's area of expertise, but it would appear that in the wake of Emma's absence, Regina has inherited some of that uncertainty.

She's willing to chalk it up to unfamiliarity. Sure, she's dressed for a funeral before, but never one that she's planned, and never one for a friend.

"What about this one?" her mother, Cora, suggests, holding up a draped black dress on a hanger. Cora's been here since just before breakfast, doing little things here and there to make things run more smoothly.

Regina eyes the dress up and down, but barely considers it before shaking her head, "Emma bought that one for me."

"Ah," Cora sighs softly, carefully hanging the dress back and very promptly choosing another one - a tailored pantsuit, usually the go-to for a higher end client. "This one?"

Regina darts her eyes up from bed sheets again, smiling softly at the choice. "Emma says to say I look like  _you_  in that one."

"Well, we can't be having that, can we?" Cora shares the gentle laugh, deciding on a simple black pencil skirt to show her this time. Her mother doesn't even ask if it's okay, they both know full well that she's fresh out of options, and pairs it with a standard sheer, black blouse.

The outfit is tossed across Regina's crisp bed sheets. It feels strange being in her own house. It's monumental compared to the small space she's been sleeping in ever since she and Robin all but moved into Emma and Neal's loft; they decided together that Henry had lost enough and, for at least right now, he deserves to keep his home.

"I'm not sure if you want me to ask if you're okay or not."

Cora sighs as she sits on the small chair in the corner. Her mother is already pristinely dressed, a black suit, almost identical to the one she just suggested, and, to no surprise, she is brave enough to colour her face and eyes even faced with a day of sadness and potential tears. Regina has passed on her usual morning routine and settled for a mostly bare fair (she splurged for a bit of mascara) and hair pulled back into a low ponytail.

"I'm fine," she promises, slipping into the bathroom to quickly change, hoping that her mother might head downstairs or change her train of thought or  _anything_ , but alas when she emerges in her slim skirt and baggy blouse, Cora is still looking at her like she is glass about to shatter at any moment.

" _Mom…_ " she whines.

Cora holds her hands up defensively, "Okay, okay. I'll pick up Henry and take him to the loft and I'll see you afterwards?"

"You're sure you don't mind watching him? I can take him if it's an issue."

Cora's hands grip gently onto Regina's forearms with a single squeeze, "No issue. You and Robin deserve the chance to say goodbye."

.....

The service was a blur, beautiful, but a blur. Meaningful words were said, tears were shed and she and Robin got as far away from the cemetery as humanly possible the second it was over. It wasn't out of disrespect, it wasn't even out of sadness, but if Robin was feeling anything like she was, there would have been a solid ball of scratching pain in his stomach, rotating madly while he descended into pure grief.

She grabbed his hand during the eulogy and somehow he was on the exact same page. They practically ran from lowered caskets, all the way back to the loft.

Regina regrets agreeing to hold a wake here, merely out of the discomfort still lingering in her stomach.

"I can't tell if this is going to be better or worse," Robin says breathlessly, pulling at the black tie around his neck, loosening it until its hanging recklessly. "I can't believe Neal's father didn't stay," he moans, reaching into his suit pocket to reveal the overly fancy envelope that was thrust into their faces by the limping man. Robin rips it open and scoffs at the contents. "I suppose this means he's out."

Regina takes the scribbled cheque and note that promises a recurring payment for their troubles from Robin's hand. She wishes she could say she's surprised, but Neal and his father were never the closest.

"Who else did we decide on?" she asks.

A few days ago, they both found themselves extremely overwhelmed with everything. Their schedules were more incompatible than their dating profiles, and it didn't take long for Regina to slowly edge towards Robin's idea of maybe looking at all the options available to them.

Neal's father was one of those options, but, as Robin bitterly pointed out, he's out.

"Mary Margaret and David," Robin mutters, "But they are overrun with children right now, especially after the twins. We couldn't possibly ask them."

"Ruby?" Regina ponders, it was their final option. Ruby and Emma met in foster care, she was at least seven years younger, but they stayed close. Regina already knows what he's going to say before he does, so she utters it for him. "She's too young…"

"Yeah," he agrees, but surprisingly he shrugs, "If nothing else, at least we can say we tried."

"Alright," she says as Cora walks from the back of the loft, from the small room Regina has claimed as her over, with Henry in her arms.

"Where is everyone else?" Cora asks, adding a curious, "How was it?"

"It was beautiful," Robin answers, taking a smiling Henry from Cora.

Regina is jealous for the smallest moment, jealous of Henry's unawareness. She'd give anything to stop feeling the way she does. Alone. Overwhelmed. Drowning. She can only hope that the wake offers her even the tiniest bit of solace and this pit in her stomach might finally dissipate.

.....

Regina has no idea who she's talking to, the third or fourth stranger she has received condolences from. For the most part, she's managed to keep her lips tightened in a smile, but something washes over her this time; guilt penetrates her veins and flushes her entire system, combining with the grief she has imprisoned in her heart, she becomes overwhelmed.

"Sorry," she interrupts, the woman conversing with her becoming silent and understanding. "Could you excuse me for just a moment?" Regina asks politely, stepping back, not waiting for any response.

She makes her way to the small bathroom tucked away in the corner of the loft, weaving in between the dark clothes and sombre conversations before rushing inside and locking the door behind her.

Her forehead meets the door and she takes a deep breath, concentrating on how the coolness of the frosted glass feels on her flaring skin. The mirror behind her steals her attention momentarily; she doesn't look like a person who just buried two of her best friends. Her mascara is still in place. It shouldn't be. It should be streaked down her cheeks, her eyes ridden with tears.

"Regina," Robin asks as quietly as he can from outside. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she groans, eyes not once moving from her reflection, not until he knocks. "Ugh," she scoffs, sitting down on the edge of the bathtub, dropping her head into her hands. She wants one second to not have to pretend to have it together. "I'll just be a minute," she shouts out.

After a few unexpected clicks and bangs, she lifts her head from her hands just in time to see Robin slip inside and close the door again behind him, twisting the lock he had just picked to trap them inside.

"Are you serious?" she asks.

He shrugs his shoulders from the perched position he's taken against the sink. "You locked the door."

Her face twists in confusion, "I'm well aware of that. People usually lock the door when they want to be alone."

"I want to be alone too," he mutters, his fingers drumming lighting against the ceramic on the sink while his knuckles turn white in his tight grip. "I want to be anywhere but here."

She's been awful about considering his feelings this week, forgetting that she's not the only one going through all of this. Her heart sinks for him, so in an attempt to lighten the misty emotion gathering between them, she jokes, "You've never been a fan of my events."

He laughs. It's pitiful, to say the least, but it's a laugh nonetheless. "What you've put together today is remarkable. I don't know how you did it," he compliments, only to be met by a disbelieving scoff from her throat. "I'm serious," he assures.

"Thank you," she says, shuffling awkwardly on the edge of the tub. "Though I'm ready for it to be over."

"What happened out there?" he asks.

"I tried to slip away without making a scene."

"In a loft as small as this one, that's next to impossible," he tells her, pushing off the sink to sit down on the toilet seat, their knees close to bumping together. "Did she say something to you?"

"No," she sighs, "God, I don't even think I could tell you that woman's name. I just got a bit overwhelmed and decided to take a minute." They fall silent after that, a few breaths before Regina feels the need to add, "And… I feel guilty."

"What in the world do you have to feel guilty about?" he asks quietly between them.

She's not sure how to word it, it's just a feeling that's been festering since this morning."I love Henry. So much," she opens with that, as if she needs to reassure him.

"I know that," he notes.

"Last week I told you all the reasons we needed to step up and be the people Emma and Neal need us to be, and I was so ready to take it on, but the tiniest part of me was hoping we would find someone better to raise him. I wanted someone to take him from us. How awful is that?"

Robin presses his palm over her bare knee, challenging her with, "There is a rather huge difference between wanting him taken away and wanting what's best for him, wouldn't you agree?"

She sniffles away the gathering sadness that's building up in her face and attempts to accept his take on it. "Henry deserves so much better than me."

"Don't be ridiculous," Robin dismisses. "You're incredible with him; his eyes have lit up every time you've come home this week. If he deserves better than you, then I hate to say that we're shit out of luck, because I don't think we'll ever find them."

She shocked at his compliment, and laughs a little as she concedes, joking, "How did they manage to pick the two people on this planet who should not be raising a child together?"

"They always had much more faith in us than we ever did in ourselves," he reminds her. "And let's be honest, we may not be the best, but after today's display of family members and friends, we certainly weren't the worst option. I had actually started to really think about how we would go forward together with this, just in case the others didn't work out."

"You have?"

Nodding gently, he offers her two turned up palms, "Come here," he asks of her while waiting patiently until she clasps both of her hands in his and allows his help to stand.

They leave the bathroom together, avoiding the stares and awkwardly hushed conversations until they are at the foot from the tall ladder up to Emma and Neal's bedroom. Regina had avoided it like the plague, but it would appear Robin saw it as the perfect hiding spot. He lets her climb first, politely bracing her at the back of her thigh while she ascends.

There is a huge cork board pressed against the back wall, riddled with post-it notes and coloured markings. He jumps right into navigating her through the board. "If I spread out my hours over more days and settle with just one night off a week instead of the two," he points madly to days and times marked on the big board, "I can take care of Henry during the day while you're planning parties to your heart's content and, if you're okay with it, you can work from home a couple of days a week so we can lighten each other's load. And I've already spoken with Jefferson, Paige is more than happy to keep babysitting if we ever need a night off, which I imagine we will. And we might need your mum to help out here and there if we're both busy but…"

Robin locks onto her face. She's flabbergasted, completely in shock but oddly in awe. "Robin…"

"It's a mess, I know."

Regina waves her hand to dismiss his complaint, "It's a  _plan_. It's more than what I thought we had five minutes ago."

With a hand over her heart, she steps closer to the board and inspects it more. He's clearly spent to much work on it (and obviously taking liberties with her day planner); her important dates are marked in purple, his in deep forest green. He's suggested days for chores like laundry and cleaning bathrooms, there's a section marked off with a budget and details of his income above a huge blank space she assumes is for her information.

"I can't believe you did all this," she commends.

"Let's just say I had a bad feeling about Neal's father from the start, and, realistically, he was going to be our best bet," he explains. "I didn't take much for me to assume that we would end up here." Regina still has her eyes glued to the board when he starts to doubt himself, "We can change whatever you need if it's not right."

"It's perfect, Robin," she asserts. "It's  _perfect."_

"Until I piss you off somehow," he jokes, and she smirks because he's probably right.

.....

Henry settles easily after their guests leave. He had been passed around numerous loving arms, she imagines it completely exhausted him. She's exhausted, too, the idea of sleep weighing heavy on her eyelids, but Robin's absence has her curious.

He climbed the ladder back up to the loft after making sure she was alright to put Henry to bed. She'd nodded easily (they have made a good habit of sharing duties equally, so she didn't mind at all), but as Henry started to snore softly, she started listening for any movement above her, but it's completely silent - no pacing, no shuffling, nothing.

Tiptoeing to the bottom of the ladder, careful to keep her heeled shoes from waking Henry, she climbs carefully. She hates clawing up the near vertical ladder, especially when her outfit is so constricting, but to her relief, Robin reaches down a short way when he can and pulls her up easily.

"Thank you," she whispers, collecting herself as Robin resumes his position, standing at the foot of the large bed.

The unmade comforter screams volumes, reminding her again how sudden all of this loss has been. Regina would always poke fun at Emma for her nonchalance when it came to housework, her bed making in particular.  _I'll do it tomorrow,_ Emma would say with her signature shrug.

With the pinch and twists at the back of her eyes starting up again, she coughs it away quietly, crossing her arms before catching how intensely he's staring at the bed, and when he notices he gestures to the unmade mess.

"It's not their's anymore." His voice is a muttered whisper, barely audible, yet it slams against her like a punch to the gut. "It's not. They're gone. We've been tiptoeing around the loft like we don't want to move anything so that when they get back everything is where they left it. So, why the bloody hell are we avoiding this floor like they are coming back any time soon?" His frustration is bubbling, it's simmering in his voice.

"You really don't like sleeping on the couch, do you?" she offers quietly and playfully, anything to dissolve the tension in the room and in her muscles. He laughs. It's small, almost pitiful, but recently a tiny huffed chuckle like that feels like the weight of an anchor is lifted off their shoulders.

"I keep thinking about how much more it's going to hurt when we realise that they're really never coming back if we keep living our lives as if they might," he confesses.

Closing her eyes, she nods silently, choosing to slip off her shoes. She straightens and flattens out the comforter on the bed before climbing on and laying flat on her back on the right hand side, Emma's side. When Robin doesn't follow her she smacks her hand across the empty space next to her.

Robin meets her with a few bounces on the mattress and he copies her position - straight legs, hands resting on their stomachs and eyes trained to the ceiling.

It's silent for a moment or two until Robin asks, "So… Do you think we're ready for this new adventure?"

Regina snorts a laugh, turning her head to smile brightly for what feels like the first time in weeks.

"You know," she admits, "I actually think we are."


	4. Chapter 4

Over the last two weeks, time and time again, Robin has found more appreciation for his two late friends than he ever did before. And he hates himself for never realising it when their hearts were beating furiously with life, but parenting a one-year-old is  _hard_. He hasn't the darndest idea of how Neal and Emma managed to do it so effortlessly. They were always smiling and cheery and on the go, and at this exact moment in time, Robin can't even get Henry dressed without Regina's supervision. It's not supervised because she deems it so, it's supervised because he doesn't feel comfortable doing it alone. He'll give it a go, struggle, and call her over as she's fixing Henry's breakfast.

Henry likes to kick. Everything. All the time. He's really energetic, especially when Robin is trying to get his pudgy little legs inside the stretchy fabric of baby trousers. It's as if no matter how careful he is, Robin is doomed to feel like Henry will end up being hurt in some way or another.

"You won't break him," Regina promises, taking over,  _yet again_ , this morning and easily manoeuvring Henry's legs the way she needs to dress him quickly. "Aren't you going to be late?"

He slips a glance at his watch - two minutes fast, as always - but yes, he absolutely is going to be late for his first shift back in almost ten days. He and Regina lucked out where it came to their jobs. Robin's boss has been one of the most supportive people since everything happened, and Regina being her own boss certainly took some stress off.

"Go," she says, picking up Henry from his changing table. "My mom is coming around later this afternoon, so you're in the clear until after that," she teases, kissing Henry's temple affectionately.

Robin is mesmerised by how quickly Regina picked everything up, from changing clothes to getting him to nap to scheduling meals and activities. Quite honestly, being around Regina exaggerates just how lost he feels, but he could hardly fault her for being brilliant, he just hopes she doesn't feel like she's having to pull his weight on top of it all.

He likes to mask his anguish with humour quite blatantly, and today is no exception. He swallows his worries and jokes, "No kiss for me before I go?"

Her eyes roll, then she turns to Henry as chastises in baby talk, "Your Uncle Robin is an idiot," and much to Robin's dismay, Henry's babyish response is to grin and gurgle wildly. "Oh, would you look at that," Regina smiles in amusement, "It would appear he agrees."

He hates that he laughs, but  _shit_ , that kid is cute.

"I'll see you later," he tells her on his way out of the loft, waving at little Henry before offering a final, "Call the bar if you need anything."

As he closes the door, Regina's,  _We'll be fine,_ echoes down the stairs.

….

It's absolutely mental how barely two weeks off work can make you forget how hard working in a bar actually is. Despite carrying Henry everywhere, despite still remaining active, his body is aching in places he forgot he could ache. Earlier that day he reached down to pick up a barrel and lug it downstairs, and about half-way down the concrete steps, his shoulders all but demanded that he stop.

Not to mention his feet. The aching. The  _burning_. Ten hours shifts are brutal and he's suddenly remembering why.

"I can't decide what's worse, staying here feeling like this or knowing that I need to climb a steep ladder to bed later," Robin hisses through a chuckle as he parks his arse on the top stair of the stairwell to the cellar.

They've opened the backdoor to feel the cool air on their skin and for Lacey to sneak a cigarette before too many patrons begin to line up at the bar again.

"I'm going to say staying here is worse," she offers after a draw. "But I've not a single inkling as to what your home life is like now. How is it living with Regina?"

Robin's surprised to smile slightly, admitting that, "It's actually been alright. We're still bickering and whatnot, but it's all in good fun for now. Dare I say, I think we might actually be friends?"

Lacey looks out into the alleyway with an amused smirk, "Neal always said that beneath all that bickering there was something you were both too stubborn to see."

Robin chuckles, remembering all too well how disappointed Neal was when his matchmaking didn't pan out the way he'd hoped. "We both know Neal would say anything to keep from admitting he was wrong. Besides," Robin sighs and slumps a little, "The only thing between us right now is Henry."

"How's  _that_  going?" she asks.

Sighing again, Robin shrugs his shoulders in defeat, "Most of the time I feel like I'm in the way. Regina fell into the parenthood role so quickly, and I'm always seven steps behind."

"You might be surprised," Lacey suggests after a final smokey exhale. "I don't know Regina as well as you, but I do know that she is a perfectionist with a flair for making everyone else think she lives the picture perfect life. She may seem put together on the surface but I'm sure deep down, you both feel the same way."

Robin scoffs lightly while Lacey closes up the fire escape, pushing himself from the steps. Lacey peers into the bar and then back to him. "Look," she says. "We are stocked for tomorrow. There are only a few regulars left. Go home and talk to her. Even if she doesn't feel as lost as you, the only way you are going to manage to co-parent is if you communicate to each other."

"I can't just up and leave you alone to close up," he counters, even though the aches and pains in his body are practically already out the front door. She insists that she can, even points out the number of nights last week she has already done by herself. "You're sure?" he asks for extra measure, but it takes barely a second before he's being ushered out of the door of the bar.

….

Robin considered texting her when he started heading back, but with the time he didn't want to risk any noise from her phone waking up Henry or ruining a stressful bedtime routine. He climbs the stairs quietly, watching out for the sixth one up, the creaky one, with a jump. He's surprised to find a bottle of wine sitting just shy of the doormat, an unmarked envelope taped to its side, assuming it's another neighbour going out of their way to be kind.

As quietly as humanly possible, he unlocks the door and lets himself inside. It's deadly silent, but the more he focuses, the more he can hear Henry's soft rhythmic snoring from the bedroom. Though, it's the sniffling that catches his attention. Sniffling and then a sigh.

"Regina?" he asks in a whisper, eyeing up the kitchen counter where the only lights are on, soft yellow tones from the bulbs. .

Her voice is soft and tearful when it mutters a lousy, "Over here," and sticks an arm out to the side for him to see.

When he peers over the breakfast bar, his eyes meet her red, puffy, teary ones. She's perched against the cupboard next to the stove, her legs pulled into her chest and a small collection of tissues by her socked feet - it would appear that Lacey might have been correct.

"You're early," she whines, clearly a little embarrassed as she starts to wipe madly at her damp cheeks. "You've never been early in your life and you chose today to start?"

"Remind me to never do that again," he mutters, joining her on the floor of the kitchen, sitting directly across from her so their legs run parallel to each other, stretched out. He references to the bottle of wine by the door, "Someone left this for us."

Regina is trying to calm herself down, barely listening to him as she exhales slowly and continues to dab at her eyes. Something about it all makes Robin begin to laugh gently. Maybe it's the relief of knowing that he isn't the only one feeling turned about, or maybe it's really hitting him that this is their life now. Whatever the reason, his brain decided laughter was the best response.

"Are you laughing at me?" she asks, her voice riddled with genuine hurt and her face looks as if she is about to crumble again entirely.

" _No_ ," he assures quickly, mentally kicking himself for caving to the strange hilarity of their fucked up situation. "Absolutely not. I just…" he begins to chuckle softly again, almost uncontrollably, as he explains, "If you'd asked me a month ago where I thought I would be right now… this is the last thing I could have conjured up."

Regina's gentle laugh in response lifts a weight from him, and she mumbles, "You never thought you'd be sitting on a kitchen floor with a woman you loathe as she sobs into a bag of chips?"

"Hey now," he defends himself, "I know we've had our issues in the past, but I'd be willing to say that we've been getting along quite famously. I think we can drop  _loathe_  from our vocabulary. There are chips?" he asks, looking around the floor for the snack.

She bows her head with the slightest him of a smirk, "There  _were_  chips."

They snicker together quietly, enjoying a short few seconds of silence before Robin explains, "Lacey seems to think that we need to talk more. That it might make me feel better and, by the looks of it, it might make you feel better too. What happened today? What brought out the chip monster?"

She laughs stressfully into a groan, dropping her head back against the wooden cupboard door. "He cried. All day."

Her breath shudders as she exhales, her eyes have filled with tears again, a few dripping here and there that she wipes away immediately. "And I mean  _literally_  all day. Nothing I did worked: I fed him, I changed him, I sang to him, I took him outside, I sat on the dryer with him in my arms. Nothing would calm him down."

She slaps her hands to her stretched out thighs with a bitter scoff before her faces twists in frustration, every ounce of restraint she has flying out the window and she sobs softly, "And then my mother just  _strolls_  in here, takes him for no more than a second, and he's as happy as can be. He was fine when she was here, but the moment she walked out that door, he was screaming again. He needed Emma," she concludes with a defeated shrug. Sniffling away again when she admits, "And I am not Emma."

"You're most certainly not Emma," he agrees, not horribly, but he believes she needs to hear it. "And nobody expects you to be. Do you expect me to be Neal?"

She lifts her heavy eyes to his quickly and shakes her head. He despises the comfort he's feeling in her frustration, but tonight, right now, is the first time he hasn't felt like a complete failure. His heart aches for her, though, unsure as to why she feels the need to put on this strong front around him.

"You know I'd never judge you for struggling, right?"

Her lips tighten as she exhales a sighed breath through her nose, croaking out a measly, "I know," before pulling her knees up and close to her chin. "You put so much effort into organising our schedule, I guess I just thought the least I could do is not mess up."

"I feel better when you mess up, believe me," he admits. "The last couple of days, I've doubted myself more than I've breathed. I've wished to be as put together as you, for Neal to just miraculously show up again and help me."

"Well," she scoffs a laugh, "As you can see I'm not put together, and I'd do anything for Emma to give me any sort of advice right now."

"You know, you said Henry needed Emma today," Robin points out, crossing his jeaned legs, "Do you maybe think it's  _you_  that needs Emma? I don't doubt that Henry misses his mum or feels her absence, but you lost your best friend, and I don't know about you, but Neal was the lad I called anytime something good or bad happened…"

"Yeah," she whispers. "Emma was always there."

"I think we need to take some time to grieve the loss of their friendship. We've only really grieved the loss of Henry's parents, and they were much than that to us."

Regina's eyes narrow softly in his direction, and she shakes her head again with a disbelieving smile. "How did the guy who showed up to our date two hours late, drunk off his ass, end up the only voice of reason in my life?"

He smiles tightly and shrugs, taking her rhetorical question to be an agreement to his point. She leans far forward, reaching her arm for the bottle of wine next to his hips. There's no cork, so she twists it open and takes a hearty swig from it. The envelope fell from the glass and stayed by his side he curiously opens it up.

He snorts at the handwritten note inside, garnering Regina's attention as she goes for a second gulp. Reading it out loud, he says, "Recommended dose, one to two glasses as needed. Love, Mom."

She giggles into the rim of the glass bottle before freely admitting that, "It was a really rough day," with a bit more of a lighter air around her, sipping quickly again and offering him the bottle.

He takes it happily and pours a hefty swig into his mouth, wincing as he swallows. He's not much of a wine drinker in the first place, let alone warm wine.

"I miss them," Regina confesses, sinking into the cupboard behind her.

He misses them too. More than he can put into words. He's only ever felt loss like this once in his life, not that long ago, but he remembers how it felt for months like the world was going to end. After a while though, he began to realise that, despite that feeling, the world keeps turning and people keep living their lives.

"It'll get easier, I promise."

"How do you know?" she asks, a curious eyebrow raising as she reaches for the wine again. His lips twitch into a frown at the horrid memory, and she definitely notices. "Sorry."

"Don't be silly," he brushes off with a wave. "Let's just say it sent me on a downward spiral. I even messed up a blind date by showing up drunk off my arse and embarrassing myself." His eyes dart up, watching as the cogs turn until she realises that he's referring to their failed date. "But I got through it."

Robin stands up from the floor, fighting through the pins and needles in his legs as he offers his hands to pull her up too. She's as light as a feather, at least compared to the kegs he carries on the daily. He's standing closer to her than he thinks he ever has in his life, having to look down a little to see her face.

"How about on Sunday, we find someone to take Henry for a few hours and do something for them? They always wanted to take us bowling to see who would kill the other first."

It's a silly suggestion, but she smirks widely, nodding in agreement, "Sure. Let's do it."


End file.
